Too Late
by DuskMoon15
Summary: Rewrite of Too Late for Regret. She watched in fascinated horror as the memory unfolded before her eyes. Sparrowstar! She cursed her father silently. I will kill you; I will run your Clan into the ground so that they are nothing but a memory. You will know regret, but only after it's too late.
1. Prologue

**AN: It has to be mentioned, that yes, this was originally just a part of the prologue, but I have since realized that it makes more sense if this part is the entire prologue and the other the first chapter.**

* * *

Two cats, a solid gray she-cat and the other a brown and white tom, faced each other. The gray one arched her back and spat, "This is your fault!"

"Falconstar, how is it my fault?" demanded the other, lashing his tail. He kneaded the ground with his claws and bunched the muscles in his legs, prepared to fight.

"You trained him, Adderstrike!" Falconstar struck at the brown and white tom, who in turn counterattacked. "You let him become a monster."

"What happened to Blazepaw is not my fault." Adderstrike's ears flattened. His hackles rose as he hissed a challenge. "You were the one that ordered me to stay behind at camp. You were the one that confined him to the elder's den. You were the one that refused him his warrior name. _You_ are the one who caused this, not me. You want somecat to blame? Look at the scars from Blazepaw's claws on your neck and tell me with a smooth pelt that you didn't make this happen." Falconstar lunged at her clanmate with claws and teeth bared. Adderstrike sidestepped and pinned her, leaning down so they were face to face. "Blazepaw spent moons reteaching himself how to walk, and how to hunt and fight. Everything he lost, he got back, but still you denied him the warrior name that was his by right. He earned that name more than you earned yours, and yet you refused to give it to him because of his injuries. I am ashamed to call you my leader. I am ashamed to call you Falconstar."

The gray she-cat sighed, the battle hunger dying from her eyes. She lowered her ears in deference. "Blazepaw deserved a warrior name," she admitted. "But how was I to know StarClan willed me to give it to him? For all I knew, they guided him into that fox's path as part of their plan. I was a fool not to see that could be no further from the truth. I would go back and fix my grave mistake, but not even here in StarClan is such a thing possible."

Still Adderstrike did not release his leader. "Because of what you did, Sparrowstar nearly killed his own kit, all because she is mute. Because of you, PineClan will not accept disabilities and now some other young cat will attempt to destroy the Clan which we both love." He unsheathed his claws, digging them into Falconstar's flesh. "Bear the guilt of knowing that when this cat drives the Clans into the ground, all blame will be placed on you. This kit will ruin PineClan at the cost of her _life_ because you denied Blazepaw that which he earned."

Falconstar shrank into the grass under her, eyes wide.

"Blood will be spilled, Falcon_star._ Of that much, I can assure you. StormClan blood, PineClan blood - all of it will be spilled because of this kit. And every drop will fall on your paws."


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: It has to be mentioned, that yes, this was originally part of the prologue, but I have since realized that it makes more sense if this part is the first chapter and the other the prologue.**

* * *

_What did I do?_ The kit frantically looked around her at the faces once kind and loving now twisted in hateful snarls. Her short black and silver pelt stood on end. Perched on the cliff high above, a broad-shouldered tom gazed down with cold fire in his eyes. He opened his mouth and announced, "Cats of PineClan-"

Blood pounded in the kit's ears too loud for her to hear the rest. She felt herself shaking, turning in swift circles, searching for just _one_ friendly face. Her gaze stopped on a gray and white apprentice. _Fogpaw, help me!_ Her sister tilted her chin upwards and wrapped her tail around her paws. _Fogpaw!_ Even so frightened, the kit did not so much as squeak.

Another gray and white she-cat, this one a warrior, unsheathed her claws, taking a step forward. Yellow eyes gleamed with rage. The kit pressed herself to the ground as though it would make her invisible.

She tried to seem even smaller, forcing her fur to lie flat. Backing away, she stepped into a puddle. Instinctively, the kit looked down.

A gaunt kit stared back with a puzzled expression on its face. Its mismatched eyes - one red, one amber - seemed to gaze right through her. The kit in the puddle had black stripes cutting across silver fur, forming intricate swirls and patterns. It looked utterly lost and out of place.

Everything about it was wrong.

Was that why the Clan turned on her?

The kit tore her eyes away from the reflection and faced the tightening throng with sudden realization. They hated her because she was so different... because she couldn't make a sound. Her heart throbbed harder against her rib cage.

Up on the cliff, the tom lashed his tail, watching the development below through narrowed eyes. Beside him, a silver she-cat could barely look at the kit huddled on the ground. She lifted a forepaw as if preparing to go to the kit's defense, but the black-brown tom glanced sternly in her direction. Ears flat, she lowered her paw and watched, a pained grimace distorting her features.

The kit coughed softly, then louder again and again. Her tiny frame trembled. She lifted her head, mouth half-open, to look pleadingly at the tom on the cliff. Another cough racked her body. She was obviously underfed and seriously underweight for a six-moon old kit. _Please..._

Tail still lashing from side to side, the tom stood. "This kit can never be a warrior," he meowed. The kit flinched and crouched lower to the earth. "It is a drain on our resources, and _should,"_ - he lingered over the word for a long time - "it live, it is only fit for the elders den."

A small tortoiseshell stood from the crowd, tail lifted defiantly. "What do you expect us to do, kill her?" Murmurs of agreement rose from the elders and queens. "She is _your_ kit, Sparrowstar. You would be wise to remember that."

"Silence!" Sparrowstar roared. He leapt from the cliff, landing neatly in front of the kit in question. "You all know she is mute. You said so yourself, Cherryfeather. How could she - _if _she were to become a warrior - lead a patrol or warn the Clan of danger? During a battle, she could be in trouble and we would never know it. How could she train an apprentice or tell anyone where the best hunting spots are?" More and more cats voiced agreement as their leader spoke. Meanwhile, the kit looked wildly around, her gaze jumping from Sparrowstar to the two gray and white she-cats. "I'll tell you: she won't. Do you know why? Because she doesn't belong here."

"Send her out of the forest!" yowled one cat.

"Leave her by the river for the foxes!" jeered another.

"She's as worthless as a twoleg kittypet anyway!" someone shouted.

Cherryfeather desperately raised her voice. "StarClan would not condone this action. She is innocent!" Before she could go on, she was shouted down.

Fogpaw went up to her father. For a moment, the kit thought her sister would defend her. But Fogpaw faced the clan and meowed, "PineClan is not for the weak. We are strong and brave and determined. We do not take in outsiders. We do not lose our battles. What would StormClan say if we let a pathetic kit become an apprentice?"

Snarls and growls rippled through the Clan. They would give their enemies no chance to ridicule them.

The kit turned to her mother for a final time. _Mistflower, don't you love me?_

Mistflower proudly raised her head and joined in the chanting of those wishing to get rid of the kit - _her_ kit.

Sparrowstar looked up at the silver she-cat still watching from above. "Moonbeam, come down here." obediently, she jumped from the cliff. Sparrowstar tossed his head at the kit. "Kill it."

Moonbeam jerked away from her leader, appalled. White rims started to show around her eyes as they widened. "She's just a kit!" she objected. "I won't - I can't. No!"

Disappointment flashed on Sparrowstar's features. A heavy paw collided with Moonbeam's shoulder, knocking her across the clearing. Sparrowstar licked his pad and claws clean of blood, not looking at his deputy's limp form. "Such an act of defiance warrants punishment," he announced after he had finished. Moonbeam blearily lifted her head. "You are no longer deputy." A collective gasp went up. "Talonclaw." A gold tabby tom stepped hesitantly forward, ears and tail lowered. "Do as I say and you will be well rewarded."

Talonclaw stared at the kit for a while, obviously feeling the same shock and disgust Moonbeam had. While the kit was indeed odd, and the mismatched eyes were creepy, it felt absolutely _wrong_ to kill her, even under the leader's orders. Exchanging a glance with a now-fully conscious Moonbeam, he leaped.

The kit's mouth opened wide in a silent scream as Talonclaw's teeth met in the back of her neck. Blood spurted in the lean warrior's mouth, threatening to make him sick. He released the kit, squeezed his eyes shut, and lashed out a paw. The resistance he felt was just as nauseating as the taste of the kit's blood in his mouth. Talonclaw gagged, but forced himself to look.

One could barely tell the kit had ever been any color save for crimson. Pink flesh showed where fur had been ripped away and the skin torn. Her eyes were glassed over and her chest barely moving.

Talonclaw took a pace back, then broke into a run for the dirtplace.

Sparrowstar didn't see the kit's chest rising and falling almost imperceptibly; he assumed she was dead. He flicked his tail at what he thought to be a corpse. "Someone dispose of it," he spat, contempt dripping from his voice.

"I'll do it," rasped Moonbeam, rising shakily to her paws. She limped to Sparrowstar, careful not to walk on her injured leg. "To show you I'm still loyal."

The black-brown leader nodded. "Very well. I trust you will not question me again?"

"Never."

"Go on, then."

Moonbeam went to where the kit lay. She took the kit's scruff in her jaws and padded out of camp. The body thumped against her legs as she limped along. Dark blood dripped from the young cat's wounds, staining Moonbeam's paws until she began to fear she would never get the red out.

The birds, who usually woke up half the Clan with their chirping in the morning, were strangely silent. In fact, the entire forest seemed to be devoid of life.

Her injured leg protesting, Moonbeam made her way through the territory. By the time she reached her destination, her nose was clogged with the scent of blood, blotting out the smells that were actually important. Moonbeam's stomach churned as she set down the kit in the damp soil next to the stream.

"Well, little one, now we can only wait," she mewed. As if in reply, the kit coughed weakly and shuddered, a thin line of red trickling between her lips.

Moonbeam gazed across the border, searching for the patrol she knew was due to be there soon. "Come quickly. I'm not sure how long she can last."

Soon after, a long tail bobbed in the ferns on StormClan's side of the border. A gold apprentice with a white stripe down his back bounded into the open. A sandy she-cat and black and white tom followed. When they spotted the two figures across the stream, they crouched defensively and hissed.

Moonbeam shook her head, unsure of how to let them know she didn't want to fight. The hoarse sound of the kit's breathing slowed, sending the PineClan warrior into a panic. "Sandbreeze, Swiftstrike," she called, desperation creeping into her voice, "I need your help!"

The two enemy warriors looked at each other. Sandbreeze, the pale ginger she-cat, called back, "What do you want, snake-heart?"

Moonbeam kneaded the ground with her good forepaw. "There's no time for formalities, Sandbreeze. There's a life at stake!"

Confusion further twisted Sandbreeze's features.

The apprentice bolted towards the stream, peering at the second shape. "Great StarClan, that's a kit!" he exclaimed.

"A kit?!" Swiftstrike plunged into the water, swimming strongly to the other side. The others followed, almost on top of him.

Moonbeam gathered the tiny body between her paws as the StormClan cats approached.

"Is she dead?" the apprentice asked.

On cue, the kit coughed up a small rivulet of blood.

Sandbreeze looked in horror at the kit's wounds. "Not yet, Lightningpaw. Not unless she is tended to quickly."

"Stop wasting time," snapped Swiftstrike. He locked eyes with Moonbeam. "Lightningpaw, go back to camp and tell Poppyfur what's happened. Sandbreeze, I need you to help me carry her."

Lightningpaw dashed off, nearly clearing the stream in a single leap. Sandbreeze grabbed the kit's scruff in her teeth. A feral snarl twisting his features, Swiftstrike demanded, "How could you let this happen to an innocent kit?!"

Moonbeam shrunk back. "I wasn't there," she lied. "I-I just found her like this."

"And why didn't you go to your own medicine cat for help?"

"Sparrowstar doesn't take in outsiders. I know Rainstar is a much kinder leader. Will you help her?"

With a shake of his head, Swiftstrike turned away. "If we can." He took hold of the kit and swam with Sandbreeze back to StormClan territory. As soon as they were on dry land, he let go and Sandbreeze sprinted away, the kit dangling from her jaws. Swiftstrike glanced over his shoulder at the PineClan cat, a suspicious gleam in his eyes.

Moonbeam wearily turned around and started back for camp. Her paws felt like stone; her tail and shoulders sagged as she walked. She murmured to the sky, "StarClan, watch over Ebonykit."


	3. Chapter 2

Shadows lept at Ebonykit within the confines of her dreams. They taunted her, jabbing at her ribs and belly. Pain exploded wherever they touched. And they wouldn't stop prodding. The shadows explored with nauseating curiosity all the places that hurt and discussed them in a language too thick for Ebonykit to understand.

She tried to curl up into a ball, but it hurt too much to move. All the shadows except for one dissolved. The one left tilted its head and tapped her muzzle. Ebonykit opened her mouth pitifully in a silent squeak. The shadow drew away. The kit dared to open one eye a crack.

The shadow morphed into a young spotted she-cat. "You're safe, little one," she meowed. Ebonykit blinked. What was 'safe'? The she-cat touched the back of the kit's neck where it had been bitten with her nose. Agony blossomed from the spot and the kit shrunk into the soft nest built around her.

The she-cat turned to a pile of herbs and selected a bristly plant from it. She chewed it into a poultice. When she finished, she rubbed it into the wounds along Ebonykit's side and neck. "Don't do that," she cautioned as the kit sniffed at it. "You'll hurt yourself if you move too much."

Ebonykit obligingly settled down. Her head felt fuzzy, memories inaccessible. An image of a huge black-brown tom flashed in front of her eyes. She buried her muzzle under her front paws.

The spotted she-cat carefully nudged Ebonykit's paws away from her face. "It's alright, little one. No one is going to hurt you." She sat on the ground next to the kit's nest. "My name is Poppyfur. I'm StormClan's medicine cat."

_Medicine cat,_ thought Ebonykit. She grasped for a memory just beyond her reach. _Why does that sound so familiar?_

Poppyfur took in her puzzled expression. Assuming Ebonykit to be too scared to talk, she lay flat, coming down to the kit's level. "Two of our warriors, Sandbreeze and Swiftstrike, brought you here several sunrises ago. You were very badly injured." The black-on-silver tabby kit nodded ever so slightly, blinking. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

The black-brown tom flashed in Ebonykit's mind again. Her ears flattened and she drew her paws under her. That image - it meant fear. It meant pain. She knew from those feelings that the tom had something to do with this.

But Ebonykit only shook her head.

"That's too bad," Poppyfur lamented. Silence claimed the den for what felt like eternity. Then Lightningpaw burst inside, a thrush in his jaws.

"Rainstar told me to bring you this," he meowed around the fresh-kill. Spitting out feathers, he dropped the bird. He crouched, tail waving madly. "I'm Lightningpaw; Swiftstrike's my mentor. I was there when we found you."

A surge of strong emotion swept through Ebonykit. The apprentice was eager to please and all around happy.

Lightningpaw nosed the thrush in her direction. "You must be hungry. You're awful thin."

Poppyfur cuffed his ear. "Doesn't Swiftstrike need you for a training session or something?"

The apprentice headed back to the entrance, his bright demeanor not at all diminished. "I'll come visit once I'm done training! Maybe Poppyfur'll let you play some mossball with me." He bounded through the ferns, allowing Ebonykit a glimpse into a clearing full of cats, some Lightningpaw's size, and others far larger or smaller.

The spotted medicine cat followed her patient's gaze. She sighed happily. "Welcome to StormClan's camp. Rainstar, our leader, has said that you're welcome to stay here and train as a warrior if you'd like."

Ebonykit considered it. The question came to her: What was a warrior? She opened her mouth to ask, and suddenly decided against it. For some reason it didn't seem like a good idea.

Poppyfur licked a forepaw as she waited for a reply. When none was forthcoming, she asked gently, "Does your voice hurt, little one?" At the kit's negative shake of the head, she tried a different question. "Can you tell me your name, then?"

Ebonykit neither nodded nor shook her head.

Now Poppyfur understood the reason why she hadn't heard so much as a hiss or whimper from the kit when she was dressing the wounds. "You can't speak, little one, can you?"

Ebonykit put her forepaws over her muzzle again, mismatched eyes trained fearfully on the medicine cat. The tip of her tail twitched.

Poppyfur closed her eyes momentarily. "Don't worry," she said. "Rainstar will find nothing wrong with that. He's very kind." She stood, checking the kit's wounds one final time before padding towards the entrance. "Stay where you are; I must confer with Rainstar and Ravenfeather."

* * *

"Mute?" demanded a black tom. His tail lashed. "A mute apprentice? What would PineClan say?" He paced the floor of the den, weaving between tree roots and around pebbles.

Lying in a mossy nest in a corner of the den, a gray-spotted white tom followed the deputy's movements. "We are not concerned with what PineClan would say, Ravenfeather," he meowed. His voice rang with authority. "This kit needs a home; she was obviously not wanted wherever she came from. And all kits, regardless of birthplace, are to be protected, as they are the most precious part of the Clan."

Ravenfeather, the black tom, tossed his head in the air, whiskers twitching. "Of the _Clan,_ Rainstar." He continued his pacing. "This kit is not of either Clan, of that much I can assure you."

Silently observing, Poppyfur forced her hackles to lie flat. The kit was scared. She _needed_ to be accepted into StormClan. They couldn't just abandon her when it was so clear it was the will of StarClan they should claim her as their own.

Annoyed at everything in general, Ravenfeather turned to Poppyfur. "And what of the warning Skypelt gave you last half-moon? How was it that it went again?"

The medicine cat pawed the ground, amber eyes focused downward. _"Those with the least to say often have the most to hide,"_ she admitted. She glanced at Rainstar. The leader nodded for her to continue. "But we cannot blindly assume that he was referring to this kit. For all we know, he could be referring to a descision one of us has yet to make that we do not think through."

"Ha!" Ravenfeather snorted.

Rainstar flicked his tail for silence. "My decision stands, Ravenfeather," he growled. "She stays." He stood and left the den. The other two cats followed him. "Poppyfur, please bring the kit to the clearing."

Poppyfur dipped her head, heading off to do as she was told.

"Let all cats join under the Highbranch for a Clan meeting!" With the yowl, Rainstar leapt onto a gnarled branch of the oak under which his den was. Ravenfeather remained by the foot of the tree, his ears and tail low.

A multitude of cats of all ages gathered around the oak tree, curious murmurs flitting about as warriors and apprentices shared with elders and queens the story of the kit's arrival. Lightiningpaw pushed his way near the front, the occasional twitch of his whiskers revealing his excitement. Sandbreeze and Swiftstrike joined him, both exceptionally calm.

"Come now, little one," reassured Poppyfur as she guided the kit through the crowd. Ebonykit tried to make herself as small as possible, uncomfortable under so many gazes. "It's alright."

The murmuring intensified when cats caught sight of the black-on-silver tabby's mismatched red and amber gaze.

"I've never seen a cat like that," hissed a cream tom. A gray and white she-cat smacked his ear.

"Cats of StormClan, I have called you together to announce the arrival of a new kit," Rainstar meowed. He signaled for quiet when questions rose from the crowd. "I do not know where she is from, nor do I know why she was injured. But I do know this: we will not deny her aid. And, if she is willing, she may train as a warrior."

"Rainstar, who is this kit?" called a worried voice.

"I do not know, Spiderfoot. Poppyfur has informed me she is mute."

The resulting silence was more painful than a battle wound.

"But, Rainstar, how will she communicate?" came the tentative query at long last.

"Communication is essential," agreed one cat.

"Without communication, how will she train an apprentice?" asked another.

One by one, many of Clan voiced an objection in some form or another.

The spotted medicine cat used her tail to sweep Ebonykit closer to her side. "Rainstar, please," she mouthed.

"Enough." Rainstar's shoulders sagged. "It is up to the kit." He looked down at Ebonykit, a sort of sorrow clouding his eyes. "Do you wish to train to become a warrior as a member of StormClan?"

Ebonykit glanced over her shoulder at Lightningpaw. The apprentice waved his tail and reared ever so slightly. _Go for it,_ he seemed to be saying.

Ebonykit nodded vigorously.

Rainstar sighed, closing his eyes. He lifted his muzzle to face the sky. "I call upon the spirits of our ancestors to give a name to this young cat, to represent the warrior inside and to show her determination and will." He waited. Then his eyes opened with a renewed clarity. "As you have reached your sixth moon, I name you Silentpaw, and although your voice may be silent, your soul already speaks volumes. Ravenfeather, your first apprentice, Smokeheart, is a valuable member of StormClan. I trust you to pass on the same wisdom and virtue to Silentpaw."

Ravenfeather blinked, caught by surprise. He awkwardly padded forward to touch noses with Silentpaw, who wore the same astonished expression he did. "I will make you a worthy warrior," he vowed quietly. "No matter if you're mute."

Who he was promising, himself or Silentpaw, Ravenfeather hadn't a clue.


End file.
